Dangerous, Sweet Love
by xAkumaxTenshix
Summary: Truthfully, when the local mafia kidnaps me for the Kira case, I was scared. But it turned out to be better than I thought, thanks and no thanks to just one guy. MelloXoc
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I can't believe I'm doing this…..but taaadaaa! It's a Death Note story! To be more specific, it's a Mello story! I really **_**really**_** need the reader's (and that means you) help with this. Since Mello isn't shown too much in the anime, it's hard to actually portray him. Please, please point out the flaws. And please help me a lot on this! Thank you!**

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**Chapter 1: Welcome to the Mafia**

I always thought that my life was more or less boring. I mean, with all the commotion about Kira, you'd think that I would have gotten more of a thrill, right? That's only if I _were_ involved in it. All I ever did was sit in my bedroom, watching the news, trying to track down Kira on my own. It was pathetic and sad, since I got nowhere. One time, I got so desperate for action that I was about to broadcast a video that said that I was Kira, so I could contact L…only, I was fourteen at that time and had no real contacts.

Now, I kind of wished that my life was boring again. Being tied to a rope, blindfolded, and trapped, wasn't exactly my idea of excitement. Nonetheless, it was different from my everyday life. So I should have been happy. But I wasn't.

The ropes burned my wrists and my ankles with a pain similar to being on fire. It felt hot, yet cold at the same time. No doubt, the ropes were tied so tightly and uncomfortably that my wrists and ankles were dripping with blood by now. I felt the sticky, wet substance on my fingers. To make things worse, I was blindfolded with some dirty piece of cloth. Basically, I felt like a blind rat—no, more like a blind piece of crap.

After being in this room for two days without food or water, I was pretty much ready run blindly around, feeling for an exit. It was too bad that I had no idea where I was. From hearing the gang-like voices and smelling the damp, musty air, I had concluded that I was in some mafia base a while ago.

Having nothing to do, I decided trying to yell for help. It probably came out as a strangled scream, since they covered my mouth as well—smart mafia.

"So you're here," A masculine voice sneered at me. I said something along the lines of 'Way to state the obvious', but it probably came out as a blur of words.

"Boss, should we untie her?" Another voice, less smoother than the previous one, questioned.

"Only untie her mouth," The first voice spoke with a tone of authority, "Then bring her to me so I can interrogate her."

The man did as he was told. In one swift moment, the cloth around my mouth was gone. I gasped for air, trying to hold back a string of profanities that I had in mind. Then, the man picked me up in another swift movement. He was buff and very big. Truthfully, it scared. Nonetheless, it didn't stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

"You freaking bastard! Let me go!" Instead of sounding strong like I wanted to, it came out as a weak plea. Silently, I cursed myself out.

"Such a pretty girl," The man carrying me commented under his breath before tossing me into a room. _'Great hospitality they have here,_' I thought sourly.

"So your name is Kyoko Hanashima," A man spoke. It was the same man that spoke to me the first time.

"Last time I checked it was," I huffed. I was really testing out my luck, "But call me Arashi." I heard something crack—as if someone was eating chocolate. "Chocolate?"

"You're a smart one; being able to tell what I'm doing just by the sound of it," There was an underlying tone of malice in his voice, "And even smarter to use an alias." I had the feeling that we were the only ones in the room. To be truthful, I didn't know whether I was glad or petrified. "Wouldn't you want to know why you're here?" He chuckled darkly. I was having the sudden urge to smash his face in. Except, I didn't know how bulk he was.

"I supposed I do," I stated with a defeated sigh; I didn't feel quite snarky today. Plus, I was starving and dehydrated. "But I need food and water."

"Don't tell me what to do!" The man snapped at me. To be honest, the sudden outburst startled me. "I can kill you anytime I want." For some reason, I knew he wasn't kidding.

"Why am I here?" I was glad my voice didn't betray my absolute fear.

"The mafia kidnapped—no, _took_—you," I could almost hear a smirk. Honestly, I thought I was going insane, hearing smirks. _'So taking includes stuffing me into some basement and treating me like shit? Might wanna get a dictionary, or maybe some mannerism class,'_ I thought bitterly; too bad I didn't have enough energy to say it out loud. "You're good with weapons?" It was more a statement than a question.

"How do you know?" I gasped. I had successfully kept my guns, knives, and a few bombs away from my parents. Yet, how does this guy know?

"We got a record of the weapon shop; you know, the illegal one? And 'Arashi' was listed the customer's list," If my hands weren't bound together, I would have did the face-palm. I heard the man walking closer to me. As he invaded my personal bubble, I wanted to smack him; too bad I didn't. When he untied my blindfold, I was so happy I could cry.

I observed the guy who held me captive. He had long blonde hair that appeared somewhat orange in this lighting and blue eyes that seemed to drill into your soul. He was wearing a black mafia outfit, with a rosary on his neck. From the looks of it, he was probably only one or two years older than me. To be honest, he was kind of cute—in a badass way.

As soon as my mind registered again, I slapped the guy on his face, hard. His eyes widened than slowly narrowed into a death glare. And holy shit, it was scary. He swiftly took out a gun from his pocket and pointed it at me, as if he had experience doing that. I wasn't going to go down like a wimp, so I grabbed a pistol hidden in my right boot and positioned it towards him in the same manner.

"You shoot me, I'll shoot you," I stated. As much as I wanted to sound brave, my threat came out with an air of uncertainty.

"Shoot me and you'll die," A sadistic smirk crept up on his features. Knowing that I liked my life (enough), I dropped the gun to the floor in defeat. "Good girl," He still had the gun pointed to me. "Now you better answer all the questions I ask you, alright?" I nodded with a look of scorn. I hated to do this, but I kind of wanted to live, you know? "Name?"

"I already told you."

"Age?"

"What is this; twenty questions?" He loaded his gun. "Okay, okay. 18."

"Why do you think you're here?"

"Because you kidnapped me." His finger came dangerously close to the trigger; I was guessing that he didn't like my answer. I threw my hands up in defeat. "Fine. Since I have skills in weapons and I know the trade of the black market—somewhat—I'm guessing that you're going to use me. Plus, I've heard of rumors about the local mafia wanting to find Kira. So why not? I think you want me to help you get to Kira. And I think you only asked this to find out my deduction skills." He looked at me as if I were some prize. Well, I kind of was…a stolen prize.

"You were a good pick," I sincerely hated how he talked like I was some disposable object. Technically, in a case with Kira, anyone is—even L, the world's greatest detective. "What school do you go to?" Funny he would ask that—he should have been in some college or university as well.

"UCLA," I shrugged nonchalantly.

"What year?"

"Freshman."

"Since you're eighteen, you are a legal adult."

"So I've been told."

"Join our mafia."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No." He took another bite of his chocolate.

"What would you do if I didn't join?"

"Shoot you." He chewed his chocolate. I swear—this guy must worship that stuff.

"And if I join?" He looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was; who knew. "Do I get free chocolate?" I smiled at the thought of free candy.

"No." And boy, did he just smash my dream. "It's mine."

"Sharing is caring?"

"I'm not caring, so no." He cracked his chocolate with his teeth and at it in a dramatic flourish.

"Fine, I'll join, since I have no other choice." I stood up from the chair and began to leave the room, only to swivel around to face the blonde again. "What's your name?"

"Name's Mello. And welcome to my mafia."

Excellent. Now I get to join a mafia that specializes in tracking down Kira. That Mello better know what he's doing.

**Please do review :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Alright. I only got one review for the last chapter. Saddens me, yes. But still, I continued writing (: I'm actually liking this story! Hooray. Please do review! It will make me so happy, I'll burst :D and it will make Mello jump out of your computer screen and hug you! okay, lies, but still. **

**Thank you Usagi323 for being the first reviewer!**

**Chapter 2: Potential**

I hated being in the mafia. First of all, I had no freaking idea what was what. No seriously, I thought that the hidden gun in the kitchen was some sort of blender. My bad. Secondly, most—no, all except me—of the mafia were guys. Male. Men. It wasn't very flattering to get all sorts of lecherous stares from random, old, creepy guys. Third, have I mentioned that I got kidnapped?

The only thing that was even_ slightly _ good was the fact that I got new toys—er, weapon. From smoke guns to tiny pistols, yeah, it was pretty sick. I especially liked the poison guns. Only, I found them kind of scary…..yet awesome. Hard to explain, really.

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Walking over to Mello's office—well, it was more like a sad little room—I wondered why the hell I even planned on staying. Only when I reached his room that I remembered that I was kidnapped. They probably would kill me if I left. And I liked my life. Hey, I knew how to put two and two together.

Once I got to the wooden door, I knocked politely, while thinking about the possibility that I could escape by poisoning Mello. The door slowly swung open to reveal an annoyed-looking blonde guy. His icy blue eyes clashed with my sapphire ones. To be honest, he seemed slightly girly.

"What?" He snapped at me as if I just walked in.

"You told me to come to your room." I raised my eyebrow, wondering if he had amnesia. Only, wasn't going to say that out loud. Like I said, I enjoyed my life and wanted to live it to the fullest.

"Right," He cracked his chocolate. I actually wouldn't be surprised if he claimed that chocolate was his lover and best friend. "Are you going to come in or not?" I gaped at him. Exactly how was I supposed to go into a room I felt unwelcomed in? I ordered myself to suck it up and walk my lazy ass in.

"So, are we going to pillage some village, or something?" I eyed him curiously, with sarcasm being laces delicately into my voice.

"We don't _pillage_ villages," He cocked his eyebrow at me as if I were some autistic girl, saying 'pillage' with scorn. "We need to discuss the Kira case. You know how to hack?"

"I can hack meat with a knife." I stated it as if it was a question. I knew what he was talking about, but it didn't hurt to mess with him.

"You know what I'm talking about," He hissed. Or maybe it did. He cracked his chocolate again. I kind of wondered what would happened if I burned all the chocolate in the world.

"What would happen if I took your chocolate?" Completely out of topic, but I was curious.

"Shut up," He yet again, snapped at me. Maybe I should call him Snappy or something. "Do you know how to hack _computers_?" He spoke in the tone he would to a mentally challenged girl.

"I'm not stupid. I know what you're talking about. No need to explain it to me in that tone." You could only guess that I felt demoted.

"I know you're not. But you act it." Ouch. A compliment _and_ an insult in one sentence. Damn, this guy was good. "Are you going to answer or not?"

"No, I have no freaking hacking skills at all."

"How about 'contacting-people-skills'?" Crack went his chocolate bar.

"Depends," I shrugged.

"I'm trying to find someone named 'Matt',"

"There are plenty of Matt's in the world." He came closer to me. Like _close_. Close enough to whisper into my ear.

"Mail Jeevas," His hot breath tickled my ear and I held my arm back from socking his face. Literally.

"You're lucky I think violently and act peacefully," I huffed, my left hand still holding my right arm. He gave me a look that crossed between the 'wtf' look and the 'pay attention' look. Not looks I liked to get.

"That's his real name. Can you find him?" How bout I answer with a big fat no? I didn't think that I would be let off the hook that easily.

"Maybe." I sighed. "But I kind of need his background information and contacts, whatever." He seemed to be wondering whether he could trust a complete stranger. He was chewing on his chocolate, his eyes far away. It was either that he was enjoying the company of chocolate or considering my…well, I wasn't sure what it was.

"No." He stated passively.

"You took about three minutes to say 'no'?" And the nerve of him to ask me in the first place.

"Maybe later." He held a piece of paper in front of my face. "First get me this order from that place." Honestly, I felt like he was telling a dog to 'sit'. I snatched the paper not-so-kindly from his thin fingers.

_Bomb 4AK3972_

_LA street club_

"So you're trusting a trashy club to give you a bomb?" I looked at the man with disbelieve.

"It's their business." He continued eating his chocolate bar. Thank goodness he was just about down by now. It was beginning to annoy me. "And if they don't, I'll shoot down the manager."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" Even on my accounts, it seemed kind of evil.

"No. Now go." He shooed me off with a wave of his hand. In other words, he was saying 'Shoo. Go away. And don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.' Hospitality was definitely not a big part on this…organization.

I sat up from the loveseat I was sitting on. Actually, I didn't mind having my butt glued onto it. It was more or less very comfortable. As soon as I left the room, my head popped back into the doorway.

"What do I drive?" I was eighteen. I had the right to drive stuff by now. He tossed me some keys—motorcycle keys, I think.

"Take this. And don't kill her." He gave me a pretty damn creepy death glare. This guy could make me pee in my pants if he wanted to.

"Can I _pillage_ her, then?" I glared at him with a look that could almost match his own. Icy blue clashed with sapphire blue.

"Just shut up and go." _Crack_. I groaned with frustration as I sashayed out of the door. As soon as I got into the living room, all eyes were on me. I genuinely felt like shooting their eyes out. I took out my pistol and pointed it at them.

"One wrong move and I'll shoot." Oh, they knew what I was talking about. One guy raised his hand as if I were some freaking teacher. And when I was _almost_ at the door too. "What?" I snapped at the guy with his eyes raised. Maybe I should call myself Snappy. I was a runner up for the 'Snapper of the Year'.

"Didn't I tell you to go?" A familiar, all _too_ familiar, voice snapped at me. And ladies and gentlemen, the award for this year's 'Snapper of the Year' goes to Mello, hands down. I didn't even have a chance.

"I prefer to get out of this door without potential rape." I stated, while still pointing my gun at all those lecherous, big men.

"They won't touch you." For some reason, I had a feeling he only said that to get me out of here.

"Can we?" I pointed my gun to the guy who said that, my finger dangerously close to pulling the trigger.

"Do that and I'll kill you." Mello glared at the guy, who seemed to shrivel. "We need to focus on the task at hand, not some stupid girl." Then, _I_ probably seemed to shrivel. I pointed my gun at him.

"I am _not_ stupid," I hissed at him. He immediately flipped out his gun, and chuckled darkly. God, it was so freaking creepy.

"Shut up and go get the fucking bomb." Again, with the snapping.

"Fine fine, god." I held up my hands in defeat, putting my gun into the safety of my right boot. Ironically, I just noticed that Mello wore a rosary. He didn't seem at all religious to me. It was probably for that gothic, badass look, anyways.

The men continued looking at me as if I were some prized trophy. I knew I looked pretty awesome, with my chocolate brown hair tied up into a messy ponytail, and my big, cat shaped sapphire eyes glistening with mischief…or that's what I like to imagine. Woo, egotistical moment there. With me wearing leather stiletto boots, black shorts, and a black leather jacket, I wasn't even that revealing. I kind of wondered if these guys ever saw a girl before.

Without further ado, I slipped out of the basement. I immediately found a black—and holy crap, extremely gorgeous—motorcycle sitting in the alley, practically begging for me to ride it. I quickly opened the seat to find a helmet. I slid the helmet over my head in one swift motion and planted my ass on the seat. After igniting the engine, I zoomed off to find the LA club, or whatever.

It wasn't that hard to find. There were billboard signs for it from a mile away. Plus, the club itself was all flashy and tacky. Being only evening, there were few people at the club. I sighed a sigh of relief.

After parking the motorcycle at the club entrance, I gathered my courage and walked into the door. I was hit with the loud blaring of the club music. Ignoring that and all the drunk bimbos lingering here and there, I walked into the manager's office.

"Hi, young miss," He was a man in his middle ages, looking like a retired mafia member or something. "What can I help you." His kind smile didn't match that big-ass dragon tattoo on his left, bulky shoulder. I flashed the receipt, or whatever Mello gave me for the bomb. He studied it and grinned at me, his gold tooth showing. "Follow me, miss." I was ready to pull me gun if he lead me into a poison tank.

But he didn't. He lead me to a regular storage room. Pulling out one of the boxes, he opened it to reveal a bomb—or bombs in this case.

"It's pretty explosive, so handle it with care." He handed me the box after sealing it. "What's a girl like you playing with bombs for?" He eyed me curiously.

"I'm just the delivery girl." I forced a smile onto my face. You know, it was kind of hard to smile while holding bombs that could kill you like _that._

"I didn't know that Mello had girls working for him." He smirked. "Never actually seen that kid's face anyways. Heard he was only nineteen though." I acted like I actually cared: nodding and smiling.

"As interesting as it is to guess his face, I need to go." I stated with a certain dryness that he probably didn't hear. Or he was pretending he didn't. He simply smiled—not in a perverted way—and I waltzed right out of there.

Once I got outside, the sun had finished setting. And the sky was colored in a sort of dark blue. I thought that my ears were practically deaf from the loud club music, but the motorcycle's engine proved me wrong. Yes, I could still here.

I loved feeling the rush of riding the vehicle and was sad that I would have to return back to stupid Mello. Feeling that he would ignore a little detour, I took the long way back to the basement—or headquarters. Whatever floats their boats.

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"What took so long?" Mello snapped, yet again at me.

"The guy didn't think I was working for you," I shrugged, as if there was nothing to it. It seemed as if he believed it, or simply left it alone. For some reason, I doubted that this drama queen was one to leave stuff alone.

"Are you hungry?" First he snaps at me then questions my well being. I probably looked at him like he was growing another head. "Well?" He looked at _me_ as if I was growing another head.

"No," I scoffed, acting like I could brave the world. Just as I said that, my stomach started growling. I mentally told it to shut up.

"Real believable," He quirked his eyebrow at me.

"Maybe a little," I gave him a sheepish smile. And followed him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was…..a mess. No, even worse. It looked like it went through a tornado, a hurricane, a flood, a fire, and an earthquake. Oh, and it looked like a giant threw up on it.

Mello pointed the table, where there were stacks of Dominoes pizzas laying here and there.

"Take a box and follow me." The rest of the gang went 'ooooh'. Highly mature. I snatched a box from the top of the stack and trotted along with him. I felt inferior, walking behind him like a little puppy. Honestly, I didn't have a choice.

Once we got to his room, he closed the door and _locked it._ My hands instinctively went to the handle of my pistol, hidden in my jacket.

"We can't let anyone else know about this information." Oh, guess I didn't need the gun after all. I released the handle and left my hands on the side. Mello plopped down casually on a sofa, taking a bar of chocolate out of his pocket. He pointed to the sofa, while eating his holy chocolate, telling me to sit. I didn't hesitate. I sat down with a big sigh.

"Now you're going to tell me about Matt?" I knew better than to say his real name with Kira on the loose and all.

"You should know about Wammy's House then." He took a deep breath as if about to tell a long story. "Wammy's House was—and still is—and orphanage in England for smart kids. Watari, the head honcho of the place, found kids from all over the world and trained them to crack codes, and become detectives."

"So L was from there?" I guessed, not exactly sure about it.

"Yeah, and so was I." Woah, shocker there. I probably looked like an idiot, gaping at him. Then, he launched back to his story, ignoring my expression.

From what I knew, he seemed to hate someone called Near. Matt was a close friend.

And maybe…._maybe_ Mello actually had some potential.

**It's not that hard to click the review button :D takes a few seconds….depending on the speed of your computer, I guess.**

**Click and review for the love of all things chocolate! X.x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Please, please review more! I only got three reviews so far! –sob- I'm starting to think that no one reads this….sad, really. I kind of expected more reviews than this. Oh well. I should take what I get, right? **

**Chapter 3: From One Hellhole to Another**

If someone had told me a week ago that I would be kidnapped by a mafia, I probably would guffawed and asked them what kind of medication they were on. Only now would I have appreciated their….insight. Don't get me wrong—I was glad that the organization honored me with at least some subtle respect, but some hospitality would be nice. Who was I kidding—this was a freaking mafia, for goodness sake!

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I woke up groggily. For a second, I had no idea where I was. That was, until some men started shouting from outside my room. After lazily dragging my butt off the bed, I trudged out of the room, to the bathroom; maybe also bumping into the wall a few times.

Now, let me tell you. The bathroom was not made for a queen. It wasn't even close. There were bunches of mold in the corners and the walls were a pasty yellow. Yeah, it was downright disgusting. Not to mention the smell—it smelled like something had died in here. Actually, I was pretty sure that the unidentifiable object in the corner was a dead rat. Nonetheless, this was the only bathroom I had, so I made good use of it.

I had to close my eyes while brushing my teeth to prevent throwing up. Luckily, Mello supplied me with my own toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. After feebly brushing my teeth, I sprinted out of there. Only, I ran into a wall.

"Hey pretty lady," Okay, a talking wall. The man was _big_, and I didn't mean chubby-big either. All of that bulk was pure muscle.

"Thank you, but move." I glared at him, my hand suddenly going for my gun. Suddenly, I realized that I was wearing my pajamas. Well, if a tank top and shorts count as pajama. I gawked at nothing in particular like a stunned idiot.

"Now, now; no need for a girl like you to be so rude." He walked closer to me, forcing me to back up on a wall. How cliché. "Your place or mine?" His rancid breath tickled my ear. I pushed away forcibly. Luckily, that caught him by surprise. I whipped out a switchblade from my bra and pointed it at his neck.

"Both. You go to yours I'll go to mine." I glared at him. I probably looked dangerous and confident, but truth be told, I was shaking like a mess inside.

"I-I was just joking, miss." He looked like he saw Satan or something. I didn't understand what the sudden change of attitude was about. I mean, his voice just jumped an octave.

"Ken," A low voice growled smoothly behind me. Mello. That's why he suddenly seemed so helpless.

"I did nothing! She tried to kill me!" He raised his hands up in front of him. Chump.

"I saw you seducing her." For once, Mello wasn't eating chocolate. Just as I thought that, he whipped a bar out of his jacket and took a bite. I guess I thought too soon.

"Or failing to," I grumbled. Now all eyes were on me—well, all two pairs, I guess. "Freedom of speech." I shrugged warily. Mello glared at me—let me tell you; it was scary. If I were some kind of wimp, I probably would have peed in my pants. But I wasn't a wimp, as far as I was concerned. If I had to pick being either Adolf Hitler trying to kill me or Mello trying to kill me, I would go with choice A long before I picked B.

Oh hell, maybe that was because I was biased. I mean, right now, Hitler wasn't the one kidnapping me into a mafia. Then, treating me somewhat kindly. Plus, he was dead, so what's the use?

Mello. Yeah, I felt confused about him. It was like I was falling for him. Then, something catches me and I stop falling. Then, that thing just drops me and _whoosh_, I'm falling again. I mean, Mello was pretty good looking, smart, and somewhat kind, in his half-assed way. But he was also arrogant, demanding, a drama queen, and frankly, acted like he was PMSing all the time.

"Ken, leave." He commanded the bulkier, taller man. I took that as my cue and decided to walk casually out of there. "Your name isn't Ken, Arashi." He drilled his icy blue eyes into my own sapphire ones.

"And your name isn't really Mello, so can I go?" Yes, I sounded like some bitchy child, but I couldn't care less. I was holding onto a toothbrush and some toothpaste, and wearing my pajamas in the dead cold basement, and he expects me to want to stay?

"I. Don't. Care." He hissed. "Come with me." Of course, I followed. He was able to KO me with a snap of his fingers—more like with a pull of the trigger. But that didn't stop me from wishing him to go to hell, in my mind, of course.

We ended up at his room, yet again. And once again, he locked the room. Only, I didn't have a gun on me this time—only a switchblade. God, how demoted I felt.

"You will be given a week to find Matt." He sat on his sofa, munching away on some chocolate. I just stood by the doorway, not really sure if I was allowed to sit or not.

"So do I stand while you explain?" Not the smartest thing to say, but it got me a sit. Well, he glared at me, then huffed like a little girl. But I'll take what I can get.

"I don't care." Well, even if he did, I was already sitting. "What's your plan to find him?" I wondered about that. Suddenly, a plan came into mind.

"You said that there was a girl from Wammy's House that was a great artist, right?"

"Yeah." As much as he tried, he could not take out the curious tone laced in his words.

"I can ask her to draw a picture of Matt and I can get you to fill out his age, eye color, hair color, and as much as you can. I need some sort of vague location of—"

"He's in LA." Well, that made things easier for me. _If he knew that much, then why does he need my help?_ Then, it hit me. Figuratively. He was testing my mental capacity. God, what kind of jerk was he? Actually, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

"Why are you testing me?" I glared at him. The one thing I hated was being tricked—in any way. Well, in this case, he was tricking me into being tested.

"Who said I was?" There was an air of arrogance as he ate his chocolate. I wanted to jump out of my seat and punch his face in.

"I _know_ you are." I started playing with my switchblade. Mostly to keep my attention of his death glare, and partly since I felt like stabbing him.

"Fine!" He threw his arms up exasperatedly as he stood up. "Alright. I'm testing you. Happy?" He let out a sharp sigh.

"Was that part of the test too?" I eyed him curiously. Curiosity killed the cat.

"Yeah." And satisfaction brought it back.

"You're lucky I'm not some dumb bimbo." I sure was being egoistical now, wasn't I? "Kidding." I muttered under my breath.

"You come close." He grumbled, apparently not hearing the 'kidding'.

"So do I start with my epic search for the oh-so-great-Matt?" There was sarcasm intertwined with my every word.

"You have a laptop in your room." Room my ass—it was more of a supply closet. "But pack it up—we're leaving this place." I was so happy, if I weren't in this situation, I would have kissed his cheek. Hell, make it both cheeks. That's right. I hated this place that much. It was a damp, sad place to live in. I had a feeling that this was just some hobo's hideout with furniture jammed in it.

"Where are we going?" I gleamed with happiness. And I noticed that he winced with my sudden enthusiasm.

"Maybe I should just leave you here." There was amusement in his voice.

"I'm too important to leave behind." And it looks like I hit the bull's-eye. "I'm going to take a wild guess here—you don't care about the Mafia."

"No I don't." He bit his chocolate like it was nothing. "But they don't know." His eyes narrowed dangerously at me and his tone was hissed. "So don't tell." I was tempted to ask what would happen if I didn't.

Without further ado, I sashayed out of the room and sprinted towards my own in a matter of seconds. I found the laptop on my bed—just like he said. It was a pretty expensive looking Macbook Pro. Wow, I felt like a princess in a twisted way. I grabbed it and stuffed it into a bag that came with it. Having nothing else to pack, I quickly changed into my usual leather-jacket-black-shorts-stiletto-boots look. Observing my very much loved hand pistol, I felt full again. I smiled as I secured it to my hip with this…belt of some sort.

I faintly heard footsteps outside my room. As I turned around, I saw the door swing open to reveal a pissed-looking blonde. Mello.

"You're coming with me." He threw me a motorcycle helmet, identical to the one he was holding. I grabbed it with some difficulty, since I was holding the laptop bag in one hand. "You know you can sling that thing on your shoulder?" He grabbed the bag out of my hand and pulled out a longer string. I kind of had an 'oh' moment. He then miserably slung it over my shoulder. I followed him out of the room, trying to fix the bag in the meantime.

When we reached the living room, it seemed as if the other mafia men were getting ready to leave as well. Honestly, I wished that they would get into some car crash or something on the way. Some leach wolf whistled at me just to prove my point.

"Have you guys not seen a girl before?" I gaped at them. I felt like shooting them, quite frankly.

Some man shouted, "Not as gorgeous as you, pretty lady."

"Thanks; now excuse me as I go burn my ears and pretend I never heard that." Harsh, I know. But I couldn't help it.

"Feisty one, isn't she, boss?" Mello suddenly snapped his head at the guy who said that. He was scary. Period. The guy seemed to shrink into the couch he was sitting on. I'm guessing that he could _sink_ into it.

"She's here for a professional purpose." Translation, 'Touch her and I'll castrate you.' There was almost a tone of possessiveness in there. _Almost. _All the mafia men looked as if Santa was murdered in front of their eyes. By the time we got outside and on the motorcycle, I could pretty much tell that all of the men were afraid of Mello.

Sitting on the motorcycle proved to be troublesome. If I didn't want to fall off, I had to hold Mello's waist. He was a very rough driver. Taking unexpected turns suddenly, I was praying that I would live. And heck, I clung on for dear life.

.

.

.

The new headquarter turned out to be in the middle of the desert; it was underground too. Great, now we were just that much closer to the devil. After walking in, I sighed a great, big, exasperated sigh. The other base made this one seem like heaven. The whole thing was in much better shape. It was sparkling clean with new leather couches here and there. I was hoping that the rooms were the same as well.

"Your room is on the left of mine." He pointed to the direction of the bedrooms.

"And how the hell—oh." I noticed that his door was the only one painted black, while the others were painted red. I walked over to the left of the black door, which was at the end of the hallway, and swung open the door. It was plain and small—with only a bed, closet, cabinet, and desk in it. But hey, it wasn't moldy, so that was a plus. I set my laptop on the desk and headed out the door.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked the chocolate fanatic.

"Through that door." He jerk his hand in the direction of a white door, his eyes glued to some documents.

"I have no other clothing." I can't believe I just said it.

"That's not my problem."

"It will be if I end up walking around naked." I saw a tint of pink on his cheeks and his left eye twitched. He got up from the chair—taking the papers with him—and walked over to his room.

"Here," He tossed me a black t-shirt and black jersey shorts. He didn't even dress like that. He flipped open his phone and dialed in a number.

"Pick up a pair of bra and underwear Arashi." He glared at nothing in particular as he snapped at the person in the phone. "I don't care what size. Just get one that you think will fit." And here I actually thought that he was going to be nice. Just as he was about to hang up, I snatched the phone from him.

"34C and small sized underwear from Victoria's Secret, alright?" With a huff, I hung up. I could feel myself going pretty red.

.

.

.

Not only did the person Mello was talking to bring back my undergarment, but he also brought along a couple of girls. Ignoring them giving me dirty looks that spelled 'I think we have competition,' I ran into the bathroom, locked the door, and immediately began soaking up the warmth of the water. As soon as I get out of the bathroom—dressed, of course. I see one of the Mafia men all over some bimbo. I was about to barf. I mean, his hands were _everywhere._

"Go get a room," I snapped at the two, not really wanting to watch them mate right in the living room. Change that, I didn't want to see anything _at all._ The girl shot me a dirty look, and huffed her plastic-surgical chest. God, I hated these kind of chicks. Meanwhile, the guy looked like it was the best idea since fire. "Gross." I grumbled, wishing that I haven't seen anything.

Great. I get out of a hellhole, only to land in a prettier hellhole. My life is a beautiful piece of art.

**Okay! So there's chapter three! Unfortunately, I feel like barely anyone is reading.**

**Thank you's to:**

**Piano-girl9989**

**ShadowedSerenity**

**Usagi323**

**Yay for their reviews :D**

**So what do you think of Arashi and the story so far? (:**

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**Reviews=Mello jumps out of your screen and hugs you!**

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